


Marry Me

by artgirl130



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artgirl130/pseuds/artgirl130
Summary: The reader finds out that Frankie has been shot.
Relationships: Frankie Rizzoli Jr./Reader
Kudos: 5





	Marry Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, let me know what you think. I'm currently taking requests on my Tumblr page @artgirl130.

“So, when are you and my Frankie getting married?”  
(Y/N) let out a harsh choking sound as she accidentally breathed in her wine. Angela had never been know to be subtle, especially not when it came to her sons. “Angela, Frankie and I have only been dating for a few months.”  
“Nearly a year!” Angela interrupted, her voice raising at the end of her sentence.  
“I doubt that Frankie’s even thinking that far ahead.” (Y/N) reasoned, trying not to meet Angela’s stern gaze. Angela tsked at the younger woman, “I know my Frankie. He’d never let you slip past him and I know that Jane and I would kill him if he did.” (Y/N) let out a soft chuckle, Mrs Rizzoli was a force of nature and not even her favourite son could stand in her way.  
“I’ll keep that in mind Angela.” (Y/N) promised.

(Y/N) took another sip of her wine, hoping that Angela wouldn’t push the issue any further. The older woman opened her mouth but was cut off by the timer ringing in the kitchen. “I’ll check on the lasagne.” As she stood the phone rang but Angela waved her off with a smile, “Go check on the food, I’ll answer it.”

(Y/N) nodded moving through to the kitchen, her mind wandering as she removed the glass dish from the oven, placing it on the side to cool. Taking in the smell of garlic and tomatoes, she found herself wondering what it would be like to be married to Frankie. Lazy Sunday mornings. Watching the Red Socks play with his family. Making them both coffee before they headed out to work. Their first dance. The possibility of kids running around with his eyes and her hair. She was snapped out of her reverie by Angela shouting for her.   
“What’s wrong?”   
“Frankie’s in the hospital. He’s been shot.”

\---

Being in love with a cop was difficult, what with the long hours, low pay and him being called away at a moments notice but the worst was the fear that he wouldn’t come back. (Y/N) and Angela had arrived at the hospital as soon as humanely possible, the two of them joining Jane in the emergency room where they waited for what seemed like hours for news. Maura joined them at some point with coffee but (Y/N) couldn’t drink anything. They’d been waiting for what felt like hours before they were allowed to see him two at a time, doctor’s orders. Noticing their anxiousness, (Y/N) let Angela and Jane go in first. 

She waited another half an hour in the crappy waiting room before the two women emerged from the corridor leading to Frankie’s room. “How is he?”  
“Asking for you.” Jane said, rubbing (Y/N)’s arm gently. Shooting them a quick smile she was off, making her way down the corridor as fast as she could without breaking into a run.

Reaching the room (Y/N) threw back the curtains, the tension lifting from her shoulders at the sight of Frankie’s grin. “Hey hon.”  
“Don’t you ‘Hey hon’ me Frankie Rizzoli.” (Y/N) scolded, (Y/E/C) eyes flitting over his injuries before catching his doe brown ones. She softened and took his hand gently, “I was terrified.” The brunet looked at her, eyes serious for a moment, “I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze instead focusing on the rough sheets. She bit her lip momentarily before dropping a kiss on to his forehead, “Well, I suppose you weren’t trying to get shot.”  
Frankie let out a snort, mouth wide, as he wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “My ma said that you guys cooked lasagne?”  
“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed lightly. “There’s a tray of it on the side at home but it’s probably freezing cold by now.”  
“Home?” Frankie asked, brows furrowed. “I thought that you and ma were at my place?”  
“We were...” (Y/N) admitted, noticing her slip up and the way that his eyes lit up as he processed her words. She mentally cursed, preparing herself to launch into a tirade of apologies for rushing things, overstepping and about a hundred other things that her mind was trying to pin on her for calling his apartment her home.

“Marry me.”

Her words died in her throat. “W-what?” she was sure that she had misheard him, he couldn’t have said what she thought she heard.  
“Marry me.” Frankie repeated, tightening his grip on her hand. (Y/N) felt her heart swell before her brain caught up to her. “Frankie,” (Y/N) began, trying to stop her emotions from bubbling out, “you’re on some really heavy pain meds. You don’t know what you’re saying.”  
His nose scrunched slightly, “Left hand inner pocket.”  
“What?”  
“My jacket.” (Y/N) nodded, picking up his jacket from the chair and placing it on the bed, her fingers brushing against the hole in the shoulder of the fabric before reaching into the pocket, removing the small velvet box from inside. “Frankie...”  
“I’ve had it for a week.” He confessed, taking the box from her hands, “I just couldn’t figure out how to ask you.” Frankie lifted the lid, the diamond glinting underneath the luminous hospital light. “Marry me?” He looked up at her hopefully, a small cautious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. (Y/N) let out a choked laugh, nodding furiously, “Yes!” she cupped both side of his face as she kissed him enthusiastically, the two of them smiling against each other’s lips. As she pulled away he slid the metal band onto her ring finger, pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles. “I love you (Y/N).”  
“I love you too Frankie.”


End file.
